


Kiss It To Make It Feel Better

by William Graves (williamsTomb)



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: IronHawk - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-25
Updated: 2012-08-24
Packaged: 2017-11-12 20:18:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/williamsTomb/pseuds/William%20Graves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint and Tony work too hard to keep up their stoic "cool guy" attitude and it keeps them from properly expressing their emotions to each other in a healthy stable way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss It To Make It Feel Better

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thatsclassified (Megan)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=thatsclassified+%28Megan%29).



Your name is Clint Barton and the Black Widow is kicking your ass.

Clint lets out a low, faint groan as he clutches the left side of his ribcage. He honestly can’t tell if Natasha is holding back. He has a feeling she is. “Jesus, Clint, you’ve gotta try harder than that.” He let out a short chuckle that was stopped short by piercing pain. Even if he could try harder, he doesn’t stand a chance against her without his bow. Hand to hand combat is Natasha’s game, not his. He coughs up a little blood and stands. He wobbles a little, but his stance is sturdy. “I... think... that’s enough for today.” he manages to cough out between gasping breaths. Natasha lets out an exasperated sigh of “Laaaame.” but there is a smile on her face.  
Clint limps away. His pride is still intact, but his body has been in better shape. He has an appointment with Tony next, about his new equipment. He may not understand a word he says when he explains anything more complicated than a calculator, but but at least it’s more laid back than sparring with secret - assassin - my - body - is - a - weapon - and - if - you - touch - me - there - again - Clint - I - swear - to - god - I - will - cut - your - arm - off Natasha. He sighs in relief but it quickly turns to a groan of pain. The medical facility will have to be his next stop today, after Tony.

+x+

Your name is Tony Stark and your palms are bleeding.

Fury doesn’t know (yet) but Tony installed secret cameras all over the helicarrier on one of his first days living here, about two and a half months ago. He knows about nearly everything that goes on here, excluding Romanov’s quarters (it involves a threat with a butcher knife, a broken camera, and a pair of soiled jeans). Currently, his eyes are fixated intently on the holo-monitor in front of him, which is currently displaying the training room, with a large MMA mat in the middle of the room. The MMA mat Clint is sprawled on. Tony doesn’t even feel the pain in his hands as his fingernails dig into them from the stress. Tony knows exactly what Agent Romanov can do, and he still is uneasy about her allegiance to S.H.I.E.L.D. He knows what she can do, and he’s scared she’ll do it to Clint.  
Clint gets up again after what feels like an eternity. However, Tony doesn’t relax until Romanov turns and walks away. He finally notices the blood after Clint leaves the screen and Natasha heads off of the opposite side. He wraps a few bandages around his hands, more to keep blood off his equipment than anything else. Besides, the wounds aren’t deep so the blood should clot within the next 15 minutes... Clint will be here in 5.

+x+

“Jesus Christ, Tony.” Clint signaled to the bandages. “What the hell happened to you?” Tony shrugged it off, waving vaguely at the plethora of dangerous equipment scattered about the room. “What do you think happened?” Clint smirked, recognizing the lie, but pretending he doesn’t. “You’re one to talk anyway; I watched you limp in here. What happened?” Tony knows already of course, but he has to make it seem as though he doesn’t. There is a brief pause of heavy silence as Clint considers how to shape his response, and finally, “I was sparring.” Tony remains stoic. “With Cap?” “No... Natasha.” Clint braces himself for the oncoming shitstorm. Tony doesn’t like him hanging out with his ex - even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud. Clint blinks. One long, painful blink, hoping he won’t have to hea--  
 _Tony’s lips are on my lips._


End file.
